Punishment
by Patron
Summary: Ryou is used to waking up to violence, injury, and an empty stomach, but what he doesn't expect to wake up to is a disgruntled Kaiba. How will he manage to fix what his Yami has done? -Angst and fluff, ahoy!


Wrote this up before I started the other story, and I doubt it'll get finished... If so, it will be picked up after I finish Questionable Existence. Just another bit of crap. This one revolves around Ryou, though. I'll consider his a prelude (or an incredibly short opening chapter) to the actual story, should I ever finish it. -Blech.

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**Punishment**

Being in the dark wasn't anything new or frightening for Ryou Bakura.

Most of his life he had experienced 'blackouts', which had been revealed to be rooted in something far more sinister than any medication a doctor could describe could treat. Ryou was now well-aware of the true nature of his episodes but sometimes wished that he wasn't. Sometimes, being in the dark (even figuratively) was easier on one's soul, and this was especially true in his case.

Rather than feeling relief to see the outside world and to be in the light, Ryou Bakura's waking was never anything less than what one would consider violent. This fact always made waking up to be far more frightening than being drowned back in that darkness.

In some ways, the darkness was comforting. It was often very quiet there, even soothing; almost meditative. His mind was numb there, only allowed to drift in the vast nothingness of the deepest inner-most portions of his mind. It felt like floating in some deep chasm under the ocean, buried under hundreds of miles of blackness. He knew there was light and a world in the distance just above, but he also knew that he would never be able to reach the surface. The water pressure was too heavy, too black and too drowning. If he moved too much, the darkness would smother him. And so he just floated there in that blackness, his heart-beat the only sound besides the whispers from the surface that he could never completely decipher. He had friends there, he knew, above the darkness, but he was too comfortable in the emptiness to bring forth the willpower to swim. He could hardly remember what it was like before this existence, back when he had free-reign of the world above the water's skin.

What was it like to be in the light? To eat home-made dinner? To go to the carnival with friends?

What was it like to really exist?

The demon that lurked in that darkness usually left him alone. His name was Bakura's own, but this person was not him. Or was he? It wasn't very clear where Ryou ended and Bakura began, especially when they communicated (which was rare). Ryou knew that he hated the demon, but his emotions were hushed here. He couldn't fight in the dark; it was too comfortable. But when the demon did speak, his voice was deep and penetrating, ringing the very skeleton in his soul. The demon would make demands at times, or he might scold Ryou if he moved too much, but there were moments when they were civil and worked together; these moments were vastly rare. Ryou couldn't count on more than one hand when the demon had been 'kind' to him, or what one might consider kind, coming from such a creature.

Time didn't exist in this world. So when Ryou was allowed to come to the surface, he never knew when or where he would be. Bakura was an experienced traveler and sometimes Ryou would find himself in the strangest places and situations. Usually these were situations he would rather not have woken to. The demon would use Ryou against his friends when he could, and sometimes would allow him to the surface after a meal just to get amusement from the human boy's horror.

Punishment: that's usually what waking up meant.

This time was like every other. Ryou faced punishment in the dawn of his eyelids opening. He could only wonder what the punishment would be this time, and what he had done to deserve it.

Darkness. He was in the darkness.

How was that possible?

Ryou was very aware of his physical body. He could feel his toes and his skin, flushed pink with blood. He could feel the pillow his head was on, and the cool rush of air from a ceiling fan.

It must be night time.

He allowed his brown eyes to adjust, begging for signs of reality as he lay still. Finally he could make out the color-less edges of the fan above him. Next came the details of the room: it was large and unusually well-kept for a place Bakura would stay. Usually the demon found alleyways or cheap hotels or cars to sleep in. This was a real bedroom. A nice bedroom. An expensive bedroom…

Just where was he?

Ryou shifted a little. He could feel the clean sheets under him and the coolness of his pillow. How wonderful it was to really get to experience those things. He wanted to eat something, first of all. That was always what he wanted after waking up. Ryou wasn't sure if it was because he was actually hungry or if it was because he craved to experience the sensations of eating food, how it tasted and how it felt making him full, just to remind himself that reality outside of his inner-darkness really did exist.

The cloud began to lift as his mind gradually ticked back to life. Awareness was always laggy in the shift between his and Bakura's souls. His body wasn't always good at keeping up with the two of them (or was it three? He'd lost count). Ryou closed his eyes to focus on the sensations as they came, focusing only on how his physical body felt.

Above all, he was surprisingly relaxed. Bakura's body was usually tense. He more than often awoke to injuries or to find that he was starving and in dire need of a bath. But this time his body was well-kept. He was clean (as far as Bakura-standards went) and fed. His hair felt a little messy, but it at least wasn't matted. Ryou brushed a hand through the silver-white strands; he needed a trim. It was always up to him to take care of Bakura's messes.

Maybe he'd been let out to clean up after the demon. This he never minded. It was, in fact, one of the more pleasant chores the demon called upon Ryou to do.

The last thing he did when waking was speak. This was just another reminder of his reality, but he always preferred the other sensations to come first. "Where am I?" The feeling of his vocal cords shaking was bliss. "What day is it?" How long had it been since he'd last existed? Ryou turned his brown eyes towards the clock on the nightstand beside the bed, leaning over to check the date and time. It was June the sixteenth, and it was nearly three in the morning.

A month. It had been a month since he'd last existed.

"What have you been doing, Bakura? Where am I?"

He nearly leapt from his skin when he got a response in the form of an agitated groan form the other side of the bed. He wasn't by himself? This was unusual—very unusual. Ryou had never awoken to Bakura having anyone kept close by, no one alive anyways, and especially not sharing his bed.

Maybe the demon had made a friend?

He whimpered a little with discomfort at that thought. Anyone Bakura befriended might not be trustworthy (or very kind, for that matter).

"…Hello?" Ryou finally whispered across the bed. He pushed some hair from his face; he really did need a trim. "Are you a friend of Bakura's?"

"Like hell I am," came the groan. It was a familiar sound.

Ryou's brown eyes tightened with exerted focus. "…Kaiba-kun?"

"Don't even pretend to be innocent," he growled.

The youth's face flushed bright red and a hand shot to cover his mouth. "Oh my goodness! Did he do something? Has he harmed you?" With a sense of urgency he shifted in the sheets, angling himself to check his friend for any sign of injury.

He blushed a brighter shade of red. Where were his bloody trousers?

"Don't touch me!" Kaiba hissed, holding up a hand when the other moved towards him. "Touch me again and I will rip your dick off! Got it?"

"Wha..?" Ryou's expression fell. "What's happened?" He wasn't so concerned about the other's anger issues. Kaiba was always angry about something. But why were they in the same room?

Now that he had time to really think, this room was Kaiba's personal quarters. Ryou struggled in vain effort to recover the memories of his demonic counterpart from the last few days. He didn't like the thought of bringing pain to anyone, especially his friends. He didn't care what anyone said about the rich orphan Kaiba was a person, a friend, and he didn't deserve the same punishments that Ryou had to experience.

What had Bakura done? "What did he do to you?"

"Take a guess what happened!" Kaiba shifted groggily, releasing hisses as he worked to sit upright but failed. "I know you're no genius, but surely you can put the pieces together in this bright little situation."

It was then that he took a moment to completely examine the brown-haired teenager.

Kaiba was naked (that much was embarrassingly obvious) and hidden partially under the silk sheets of his ridiculously overpriced King-sized bed. The youth's typically well-kept hair was frayed and messy. His once-perfect skin was blotched with the ugly signs of physical abuse. Yellow, blue, brown, and purple patches covered his body, and there were scratch-like lacerations across his chest, sides, and even on his angry (though still handsome) face.

Oh, that face. It was the first time that Ryou could remember seeing Seto Kaiba look so withered, injured, or upset, especially all at the same time.

Ryou's mind, still struggling to come back to full reality, lagged as he attempted to come to a decision about his friend's symptoms. Bruising, scratching, messy hair, no clothing, the bed, and a very angry Seto equaled…

All Ryou could do was release a sort of muffled gasp-yelping combo that reminded Kaiba of the noise Mokuba made when swallowing a large bite of food the wrong way. "No! No, no, no!" Ryou quickly turned away, his pale skin now flushed red. He shook his head violently, his slender fingers tangling in his silvery-white mane. "He couldn't have! He wouldn't have!" The mix of rushing emotions was becoming difficult to process. Ryou's brown eyes swelled over, the tightly-shut eyelids unable to hold back the salty water building behind them. "He's never done that before! Never!"

Ryou's cries were nothing short of unsettling. Kaiba watched with some level of shock as the teenager quivered and openly wept, his hands burying his face in a futile attempt to hide his shame.

What was someone supposed to in this situation? Kaiba couldn't call upon any previous situation or education or management class to instruct him on what to say or do. But one thing was apparent: if he wanted revenge on Bakura, this was his chance.

Ryou was considerably weaker and certainly wasn't capable of the things 'Bakura' was. For just a flickering moment, the consideration of 'returning the favor' entered the millionaire's mind, but it left just as quickly. Ryou didn't wholly deserve to be punished for the actions of the demon. After all, he had no control over Bakura (as far as Kaiba could tell). The only real satisfaction he'd get for attacking the same flesh as his violator was that he might save face. But would that be enough to return some of his pride?

It might.

"Oh, Kaiba-kun! I'm so sorry!"

Ryou cried this repeatedly. It was annoying. The noise was almost enough to drive Kaiba over the edge. He growled a warning but Ryou only wailed louder with his rapidly increasing distress. "Shut up, already," he hissed. "Mokuba's asleep." At least he'd better be at this time of night. "You'll wake him up with that incessant crying."

"I'm sorry!" Ryou attempted to quiet himself by face-planting a pillow. The bed shivered with his body.

Kaiba could feel the disdain coming in waves from the other side; the corners on his lips only drooped deeper. How annoying.

"I…I'm so…so sorry…! He's so horrible! I can never make up for his actions! Especially not now…after this! –Damn him!"

The sound of that voice letting a curse slip didn't sound right,

It was bothersome.

"Shut up," Kaiba growled again. "Just shut the hell up. There's nothing either of us can do about it now, so stop your damn crying. You're even more effeminate than usual when you cry. It's freaking me out, so stop it!"

"I can't!" wailed the other. Ryou turned on his side so his back was to Kaiba, hugging his pillow tightly to his bare chest.

Kaiba released a long, heavy breath and scratched at his head with irritation. This was the most awkward situation he'd found himself: raped by a demon and then feeling guilty about it when the innocent person the demon possesses begins to cry like a 5-year-old girl. Why should HE feel guilty? It only made sense that Ryou would feel guilt, but why the hell was his crying making Seto's heart twitch? He should feel good about the teenager's tears. Damn right he should be crying! Damn right he should be upset! That white-haired bastard should throw himself off the side of the building after what had just happened!

Nevertheless, Ryou's tears demanded a sort of gentility that Kaiba rarely felt the need to express. It wasn't very often for him to feel for anyone outside of himself or Mokuba—their needs and their feelings and desires always came first. Screw everyone else: that's the way it had always been, and that's the way he preferred it. But Ryou's situation was…unique.

They'd never been 'friends' (or what one might consider a friend to be to Seto Kaiba). He'd never really spoken a word to Ryou before Bakura had showed up. Ryou himself was a sort of ambiguous existence. Kaiba knew the other existed but Ryou himself had never really mattered. In fact, this was the first time that he could remember speaking to the transfer student at all. And THIS was the situation?

Awkward didn't even begin to cover it.

What the HELL was he supposed to do now?

Ryou Bakura was innocent, but someone had to pay for what had happened, and there was no way to know when 'Bakura' would reappear. As innocent as Ryou was, he was the only tool Kaiba had at his disposal to get back at the demon.

The question was: could he bring himself to do it?

Probably.

…Definitely. Most definitely.

He'd just do what had been done to him. Afterwards, he'd consider them 'even'. Well, maybe not even, but it would save face, and saving face was what he considered most important in this situation. He couldn't allow Bakura to walk all over him and get away with it or the demon would just do it again in the future, and Kaiba was no one's bitch.

No one's.

Someone had to pay. It might as well be Ryou.

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I need to go work on other stuff now. We'll see if this ever gets picked back up!


End file.
